I was on the N train coming home when Sally & her cloud-head Sam got on & starting taking pics of me alone.

She said smile & I said I wake up at night hearing you scream about front men, the type who burn you up & how you wouldn’t love anyone but them.

& I swore she tore me a new one over the Clover Son who wasn’t the one she wanted & so she runs and guns & yes that’s the patriot way.

It’s a common fact but not well understood nowadays that wars have only been fought for gold. Not for safety or liberty or god or any of those jokes the filter queen smokes on the silver screen. One & Two & Asia &am & the gulf where we ran to gulp the mud; prying open our throats to fill them up til they were blacker than the night sky or that man the police were killing in missoura & yes maybe that would be a lovely way to go on to whatever’s next.

Somewhere along the line living life was replaced by getting degrees & paying & paying & paying for them & u have the gall to ask if it’s too late now to say sorry.

I have worms in my ears & I’m picking them out of my coffee which was burnt by the new pill poet percolating behind the bar. He cut off his left ear, shelfed it onto his right & balancing his head with all the others, guessed which way the Lazy Tastey was gonna blow his brains so they could jump in front & hope it made them Great. With glazed eyes he tries to cry but yeah…it’s too late now to say sorry. //

I’ve missed you so, munch. The UnTouchables are laughing at a joke but they don’t understand the punch line.

Ah that’s okay.

I rub my eyes awake, you’re next to me & it’s late...I could swear your skin is glowing & the sky is still blue in this strange new state.

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